Last night I felt it. The glow from the lights hung along the line of the roof whispered the softest glimmer along the outline of my babe's face as his slow rhythmn of suck-suck-breathe lulled us both into a sleepy trance. The white cushy chair rocked us both in the corner of his room... the perfect oasis from the active day that wore us into a pair of rag dolls. And not but a few feet away with a shallow wall between us, was the heartbeat of my girl, curled up in her bed, her eyes ready to give way to the back of her lids after hearing the fourth chapter of The Friendly Snowflake (a book passed down from my grandparents, one of them still living) read aloud by her daddy.
And there it was. This thrill of mamahood thing. This loving having babies thing. This charge from being high on Christmas. This knowing that even if I miss it and say the wrong thing at the wrong time, or lose it for a second, we're a family, a team... and we all come together within our four walls, and together, this meshing of it all is what makes us "us." But it's even more than that, and I'm not sure that my words can actually hit the mark on the feelings that surge through every nerve and cell of my body when it comes to my kids. This season always sparks something in me, it adds flame to the fire that's already burning bright.
At one point I thought that quite possibly the busyness and hustle lately might take away from the fireworks of the season, my favorite season, you know, until the next one comes along. But no, I think it's shaping up to be a great Holiday season... we're making it that way. Molding our plans and traditions. Creating memories. Spinning our brains to make the most of every second our family has and makin' it good.
Like evening marathon bake-offs with my little fairy. Yes, she adds a little magic as she rolls out the dough with her own special rolling pin.
And mad-dashing it to the store after we re-nigged on our agreement that the adult presents in the house would solely be remodeling our bathroom come the new year, to preserve the tradition of everyone opening and donning a new set of pj's on Christmas Eve. 'Cause that's a tradition that can't be broken. Mama says.
The next couple of days will be spent huddling around the food table, sharing stories and laughing with aunts and cousins. Playing games and exchanging anecdotes with uncles and grandparents. And then Christmas... it's just us. It has a nice ring to it, doesn't it? Just us.
The countdown is nearing it's end.
And I'm feelin' it. Feelin' pretty fa la la la la as we breathe in the rich aromas, being serenaded by Zooey Deschanel rockin' out Baby It's Cold Outside and sopping up all the delicious festive flavors.
And to all of you who come and grace this space with your time and comments, I'm perpetually blessed and enriched by you.